[FFML] [FIC][BGC/MARVEL] Bublegum Chromosome, Chapter Seven

Wow! Took me awhile on this. Sorry you had to wait so long, but here it is! BTW, Eight is being written, and boy, will all hell break loose.
Thanks for reading!

Knight Writer

Bubblegum Crisis used without permission

X-Men used without permission.

Bubblegum Chromosome

Chapter Seven

Erik Magnus Lehnsherr, the Third, stepped out into the cool pre-dawn air. He rubbed his bleary eyes in the slowly fading darkness while he pondered his next move amidst the refuse of Mega Tokyo, the city of GENOM.

He didn't fear what creatures of the night may lurk in the shadows. Why should he?

Punks and muggers were hardly Boomers, and the latter had proven no real contest. So he walked toward the food stand he knew to be almost ready to open for the day without any fear. Erik had come to know the young women who ran it, and they hardly minded cooking breakfast for him early.

His yen was good, and he admired their bravery. After all, it took guts and determination to open a stand in this part of the city.

The warehouse had been cleared in record time, much to that fat bastard Michiru's surprise. Erik, for his part, had enjoyed the time spent working with his hands. It provided a refreshing, and much needed, distraction from his purpose. But he couldn't stay there forever. No matter how relaxing Erik found such labors, he could not ignore his reason for coming to this place. He had to destroy GENOM. The only questions were how and when? No, more like just how. Wrecking mad Boomers would solve nothing. GENOM could crank those metal abominations out by the thousands every day. One or two gone wouldn't do jack shit to GENOM's production abilities...

But what about that? Hitting the Boomers would never be enough. The factories that manufactured them, on the other hand, would definitely put at least a small dent in their power to create death in a can. How many were there? Where were they?

And would it even work? He was on GENOM's turf, now, and they controlled

The field. A few Boomer factories here and there would still do little damage to

the evil corprorate mega-giant. The research would still go on...

"Hey! Erik-chan! Where ya goin'?"

Erik brought himself up short just past the stand whose food he had made part of his daily routine. He glanced around his surroundings before looking at the woman who'd called out to him. How lost had he been in his own thoughts? "Sorry, Megumi," he replied as he went back to the counter. Megumi Segawa was an attractive young woman. Her chestnut hair was pulled behind her head in a long ponytail, playful almond eyes dancing with his own. The outfit, a blue mini-kimono - that was the best term he could devise - and black nylon tights accented a healthy and athletic frame. She exuded optimism despite the dreary surroundings of Mega-Tokyo. "I was lost."

"No problem, Erik-chan." She grinned, and Erik simply had to return it. The young woman's enthusiasm was contagious, that was for sure. "The usual?"

"Yes."

"Hi, Erik," said the other young woman. She had hair the color of night, tied in a braided tail that dangled at her shoulder. The second woman was shorter than Megumi by a head, with blue eyes like the sea showing from dangling threads of hair. Her body was more defined than the owner of the stand, as shown by the identical outfit she shared with the taller girl.

"Hello, Kikyo. How are you today?"

"Okay. Ya want the usual, huh?"

"Yes."

"I'll get the chicken, Megumi-chan."

"Okay, K-kyo-chan."

Erik didn't miss the look that passed between them. It lasted merely a second, but it was still there. Erik shrugged as Megumi handed him a Pepsi. Their personal lives weren't his concern.

But it did explain why the two women were always so cheerful in the morning.

"Ya seem kinda lost today, Erik-chan," Megumi said as she ran her hand above

the small griddle.

"Yes. Thinking."

"What about?"

"I... cannot explain. Sorry."

"I just bet," Megumi replied with a wink.

"Eh?" What was she talking about.... oh. "No no! Not that! I...." "I'm kidding!" Megumi giggled at the flustered look on Erik's face. The guy was embarrassed so easily! Satisfied that the griddle was hot enough, Megumi applied the batter and readied her spatulas. "But I bet that's just the ticket for ya."

"I flattered you think so." Gah. Not for the first time, Erik wished he had a better grasp of Japanese.

"Got it," Kikyo chimed as she exited the old storefront the stand was

anchored to. Megumi glanced at the other girl with a word of thanks before flipping the batter and taking some white

meat to place on the griddle to warm up. "Thanks, Ranchan."

"Yeah. No prob."

"How you and Kikyo-san?"

"We're fine," Megumi chimed.

"Yeah," Kikyo added. "Doin' good. How 'bout you?"

"Cannot complain." That okonomiyaki - Erik would never be able to properly

pronounce that - was beginning to smell incredible. His stomach rumbled in

anticipation of the meal to come. This was why he never ate at any soup kitchen when he could afford not to. The meals here were just too damn good.

"Smells great."

"Thanks! An' it ain't even done yet, Erik-chan!"

"Thank you. For making breakfast for me."

"Not a problem."

"Yeah," Kikyo added. "Yer yen's good. An' yer a regular."

"What my... partner... is trying to say is that we don't mind this a bit. Not for a loyal

customer like yerself."

"Thank you."

"We said it before. No problem." Megumi flipped the pancake into the air with one hand while the other grabbed a red plastic basket and caught the cooked batter. The chicken was added, along with the soy sauce, and was presented on the eating counter. Erik was finished in under two minutes.

"Hey, careful," Megumi laughed, "You could choke!"

"Was hungry. Don't eat much."

"Yeah," Kikyo said, coming up next to Megumi, "ya look pretty rangy, there."

Erik ignored Kikyo's lack of manners. "Food here is great. Thank you."

"Not a problem!"

"Here." Erik placed a few hundred yen bills on the counter, enough for the food and a small tip. "I have to work, now."

"Work hard now, Erik!" Megumi chimed as he finished his pepsi and dropped it

into the nearest waste bin.

"Later!" Kikyo called after him.

Erik gave a brief wave before turning down a sidestreet he knew was a shortcut to the warehouse complex he and the crew were cleaning out. There was another, at least as large as the last one, to be cleared by nightfall.

The work was somewhat monotonous, and the weight of his purpose bore down on his shoulders, but Erik thought of Megumi and Kikyo - running their small okonomiyaki stand on the street - and felt himself smile a little. There was just something about those two which allowed him a small moment of cheer in a world that hadn't made any sense in a long time.

With that thought in mind, Erik walked to work. GENOM, its Boomers, and how he should confront them seemed not so close and overbearing.

Leon McNichol stepped out of his patrolcar into the crisp air. From behind his sunglasses he scanned in every direction for potential threats. In areas this close to the ruins of old Tokyo there weren't many people who were enamored of either the Koban or the ADPolice. A lone officer wandering in could tempt a few into acting out their aggressions.

Leon's hand unconsciously traced the concealed butt of his Silverhand pistol as he shut the car door and engaged the security system.

The sun had just risen over the skyline of Mega-Tokyo to reveal the trash-strewn streets and graffiti-coated walls of the slum sectors. This was the part of the city that potential investors never saw and preferred to ignore. Leon was paid not to. In the space of only a few days, things had taken a definite turn for the strange. Priss had vanished seemingly without a trace. A check with the owner of the Hot Legs bar, in which Priss's band was scheduled to play, revealed that she hadn't shown up to sing for the gig. One of the backup members had taken her place. Said owner was highly pissed. That, in and of itself, was usual. Priss had an annoying habit of doing that. Since he had discovered that the woman was indeed one of the Knight Sabers, her vanishing acts had made more sense. But Priss hadn't been seen by anyone since leaving ADP Headquarters the night the Boomer had ransacked Nene Romanova's apartment. Were the Knight Sabers investigating or involved? What was the deal?

Leon walked up the cracked mortar steps to the plain iron door. Behind which was a homeless shelter, a thing all too common in Mega-Tokyo. Such places were merely inadequate stop-gaps in a city ruled by corruption and greed. Three knocks on the door and it opened to reveal the single largest man Leon had ever seen on the other side. "You got business here?" his voice rumbled. The African man was easily three times Leon's size, and every bit of it scarred muscle. The guy had been in more than a few scrapes before.

"Name's Leon McNichol," he said, producing his badge, "ADPolice." "Now, what's one of you boys doin down here at a shelter?" the man rumbled, clearly amused.

"I'm looking for someone. I've got reason to believe he holed up somewhere

around

here."

"This mystery man got a name?"

"He's a foreigner. Got white hair. Wears a black coat. Got anyone like that here?" The man's laughter roared outward, bouncing off the walls and echoing into the sky. "Something funny?"

"Man... You've gotta be the dumbest punk ever to put a badge on!"

"HRM?!"
"Got anyone like that here?" the enormous man mocked between gales of laughter.

"What were you thinkin'?"

"You listen up, wiseass," Leon growled, "This guy could be involved with the Boomers that've been getting scrapped, lately."

"If I meet that guy," he replied, slightly breathless, "then I'll shake his hand."

"Mind if I take a look around?" Leon was getting his fill of this guy.

"Look, cop, I'll save ya some trouble. The only foreigner in this place is

me. All the

others are locals."

"I'd rather see for myself."

"C'mon in, then," the man said, making room for Leon to pass. "Wastin' yer time, though."

They walked through the dingy hallway, lined on each side by particleboard doors which stood open in the bare bulbs. Leon looked in each one, finding only sleeping drifters and vagrants. Some were awake, reading tattered paperbacks or merely staring into space. None of them, he saw, seemed to fit with Clancy Rick's description. Leon felt his last lead slipping away.

Twenty minutes later, Leon and Boman were seated in the administration office - more like a re-modeled closet - across from each other. Stacks of papers and bills littered the metal desk and jutted out of several antique file cabinets. On the wall above the barred windows rested a crucifix. A few photos of what Leon could only guess as family hung on the dull walls, with a portrait of Jesus Christ placed above them all.

"Didn't take you for a religious type," Leon observed.

"I may look rough," the huge black man said, "by my heart and soul belong to the Lord."

"You try to spread the Word to the people staying here?"

"If they want to hear it, I'll tell it. They make their own choices. I help nourish their bodies. If they want food for their souls, I'll gladly give it."

"Well, I'm not here for a sermon."

"Didn't think so," Boman conceeded. "Anyway, I told you I didn't have foreigners here. Wouldn't turn 'em away, but they ain't here."

"Have you heard..."

"About this white-headed guy? Never."

"I see." Leon's instincts screamed that this man was telling him the truth.

Another dead end.

"Boomers," Boman spat. "Man should create children, not cyberdroids."

"If you hear anything..."

"I'll let you know."

"Thanks for your time, Mister Boman."

"My pleasure. And sorry about before."

"Don't worry about it."

Leon steered the patrolcar out toward the main city. Three homless shelters, and still nothing. Maybe this guy was more financially well-off than he'd thought? "Something's gotta give, here. He's gonna slip up somewhere." Leon hoped that Daley was having more luck on his end. Leon couldn't put his finger on why, but he felt that the mystery Boomer wrecker and the attack on Nene were somehow connected. Instinct was often the best investigative tool in any detective's arsenal.

It was strange, holding a meeting of the Knight Sabers without Nene present. Sylia glanced at the spot where Nene would have sat and felt a twinge of sadness.

Until sherecovered, the Sabers just wouldn't be the same.

"As you all know," she began, "Nene will make a full recovery. However, we cannot afford to treat this incident as a random act."

"No kiddin'," Priss said hoarsely, "Sho got kidnapped. Who was after him?"

"As of yet," Sylia replied, "my contacts have found no information as to Sho's whereabouts, or to who was responsible."

"ADPolice is all over this, too," Mackie piped up. "Guess who got the case?"

"Leon and Daley," Sylia said.

"Great, the last thing I need is to run into Leon on this again," Priss growled.

"Maybe we should track them?" Linna asked. "If they find something, I want to know about it."

"As do I, but without Nene that is not a feasable option. The risks of

following them from outside ADP far outweighs the benefits." Sylia took a sip of tea. Nene had never been much of a fighter, yet her position in the ADPolice - not to mention her computer expertise - had made her an invaluable member of the team. Even Sylia had found herself taking the girl for granted once or twice. However, that didn't change the fact that Sylia could not afford to risk compromising the Knight Sabers any more than they already were. At least Leon had not bothered to keep snooping once he had learned of Priss's involvement in the team. She counted

her blessings every night for that.

"So, what do we do?"

"For now, we should focus on our new guest." Sylia looked down at her right leg.

"What about Nene?!"

"Priss..."

"Are we just gonna let this slide?!" the brunette shouted.

"No, we are not," Sylia replied in her best icy tone.

"Then..."

"Priss, listen to me." She kept her voice cool, her tone authorative. "I understand how you feel, and I feel the same. BUT," she added, cutting off the other girl's reply, "we have no information. Without that, we cannot find who is responsible, nor can we find Sho."

"Then we can get information!"

"We will," Linna said, placing a hand on Priss's trembling shoulder. "When Nene recovers enough to talk to us, we'll get all we need."

"Damn right."

Sylia really didn't like the venom in Mackie's voice when he said that. She saw Priss relax slightly. Her emotions were always close to the surface, but now...

"Anyway, our new concern is Logan. I have done some analasys on the metal

which covers his skeleton."

"So, what's up?"

"This metal," she began, "is unlike anything I have ever seen." Sylia brought their attention to the monitor on the far wall, which showed the molecular structure of the metal.

"So, what's this mean?" Priss asked.

"This structure is similar to diamond, the hardest mineral on earth," she exlplained. "However, it is hundreds of times more dense."

"Which means it can withstand a lot of force."

"Correct, Mackie. According to the data I have at present, his skeleton is roughly three hundred times more durable than current Abotex armor employed by GENOM for Boomers."

Their collective jaws dropped.

"Three..."

"HUNDRED..."
"Times stronger?" Linna finished for Priss and Mackie.

"The estimate is rough," Sylia said, "but yes."

"Holy shit..." Priss gasped.

"That's... wow..."

"The coating is less than a millimeter thick," Sylia said. "I would hate to think of a Boomer coated with this metal."

"Nothing short of a damn nuke would stop it!" Mackie exclaimed.

"What else do we know?"

"Nothing much, Linna. I do not know how it was made, nor even what it is called. I have found a few interesting rumors about its creation, but I cannot divulge them until I can confirm their validity." If they were true...

"How the hell did it end up in this guy's body!" Priss exclaimed.

"I do not know that, either. I do know that this is likely why GENOM wants him so badly." Silence ensued as each one present chased their own thoughts.

"And what about how he heals?" Priss asked. "I've never seen shit like that."

"Nor have I. As yet, I have absolutely no idea how that is possible nor how he came about his heightened seses."

"Um, wouldn't he have cyberware for that?" Linna asked.

"Actually, he doesn't."

"You're kidding me!"

"The only enhancement I can detect is Logan's skeleton. As for his rapid healing and heightened senses, I haven't found anything."

"What is he, some kind of a freak?" Priss asked.

"Your report, Miss Madigan?"
"As yet, we have been unsuccessful in retrieving Logan or the adamantium in his body."

She stood before Chairman Quincy's desk, the very seat of GENOM's unrivalled power. Just the thought of how much influence the man who sat there had was enough to send a slight tremor of fear up her spine. "Our operatives are scouring the city now, sir, but no leads have..."

"Keep searching, Madigan. He cannot hide forever, not even with the help of

the Knight Sabers."

"Of course sir. I have one final report."

"Yes?" Quincy opened his eyes and stared straight into Madigan's own with frightening intensity.

"Doctor Trask has accepted your proposal. I've taken the liberty of scheduling him on the next flight out of Genosha. He will be here by tomorrow night."

"Excellent, Madigan. Ensure that he arrives safely."

"Yes sir."

"You may leave."

Quincy turned his chair to face the vista of Mega Tokyo. The sun had just

Barely managed to pierce the cover of clouds, casting down scattered rays of light

into the gunmetal grey. How like ants the human race was, scurrying through mazes of their own design, all serving one authority or another. Very few of them possessed the mental capacity to truly grasp the parallel and of them none could remove themselves save through death. But Quincy knew.

Madigan would never be able to find where Logan was holed up. Sylia Stingray was far too clever at covering her own tracks. Doubtless she had him, from the way he had openly attacked a top GENOM executive she would have wanted answers. Once she scanned the metal - as Quincy knew she would - she would surmise that it was the reason he was being hunted. Sylia Stingray was clever, true, but not as much as she thought. "Keep him safe for me, little girl," Quincy whispered. "I'll take him off your hands soon enough." For now, Logan was far better off with the Knight Sabers and out of Quincy's way.

Quincy's brow furrowed as a shaft of golden light vanished to reappear elsewhere. He had known of Logan's coming to Japan and at least knew where to find him. The other mutant, however, had apparently decided to behave himself. This would not do. Quincy cursed the incompetent fools in Intelligence for not being able to put a face to the mutant who had stormed accross Europe and Asia to come here. The man's luck truly ran deep. Finally, there was the matter of the new mutant who had appeared. The attack on Nene Romanova had not been perpetrated by a Boomer, he knew. No Boomer in Mega Tokyo went rogue without Quincy's knowledge or arpproval. His name was Sho, and his power seemed truly impressive. But this new one had vanished as well. After that night, the boy had simply disappeared. Or had he? There were others out there who knew the nature of the X-Factor, of what it could do. Perhaps some were operating within Mega Tokyo?

It was possible, but a moot point. There was no way he could be stopped now. Quincy had worked far too hard and far too long for any group - human or mutant - to jeopardize his vision. He ruled an imperfect world, plagued with weakness. Soon, the world would be as it was always meant to be. Perfect.

"How are we feeling, Miss Romanova?"

"Pretty lousy," Nene replied. She managed to sit up, which earned her a wave of dizziness. Her head felt as if it had been stuffed with cotton and placed on the spin cycle. She was vaguely aware of a dull throbbing ache, yet it seemed so distant.

"Take it easy," the nurse chided gently. "You only woke up an hour ago."

"Where am I?"

"You're in Cristobal Memorial Hospital, Miss Romanova. You've been here for almost three days, now."

"Three days?" What had happened? It was so hard to collect her thoughts.

"You're a very lucky girl, to have survived an attack like that."

"Attack?" What attack? The last thing she remembered, Sho was having a seizure and...

Why did that send chills up her back?

"Your vitals all look good, Miss Romanova," the nurse said. What came next didn't make any sense. Nene's recollection was blurry - likely from whatever medications she was on - but why did she see things flying around in her memory?

Everything about that night seemed so disjointed, as if she had been drinking. But she hadn't. Had she? No...

"You have a visitor," the nurse said in a tone Nene couldn't discern. "Do you feel up to it?"

Nene looked over to the door, recognizing Daley Wong standing past it.

"Yes." At least she was seeing a familiar face.

Daley kept his face neutral as the nurse - Saito, her nametag read - walked over to him.

It was clear she didn't like him. When the staff at the nurse's station had informed him that Nene Romanova was indeed awake - and had summarily refused his request to see her - he'd let his badge do the talking. Medical professionals in general and nurses in particular were very protective of their patients, almost as much so as parents in a respect.

However, just as they had their jobs, Daley Wong had his.

"You have five minutes, Detective," she said tersely before exiting. She was clearly unhappy with him asking Nene questions so soon after awakening.

"Don't worry, I'll keep it short."

"Detective Wong?" Nene asked, bewildered.

"Hi, there," he replied softly. "We all miss you back at the office."

"Uh-huh." Nene gave her head a small shake as if to clear it.

"Listen, I know it's a bit soon, but..." Maybe this was a bad idea, he thought before he could finish what he was saying. Nene was obviously out of it - partly due to whatever medication she may be on. Oh, hell, it was too late to back out now. "I need you to tell me who attacked you that night."

"I..."

(SHO! SHO PLEASE STOP! STOP IT....)

Daley couldn't help but stare at how pale Nene's face had become. The

terror in her eyes was unmistakeable. Daley Wong swore that he'd catch the son of a bitch who had done this to a fellow officer. "Are you okay?"

Nene, for her part, couldn't make much sense of the jagged fragments of memory that lanced her mind. The only thing she could draw from the conflagration was Sho, but that made even less sense. Maybe if she didn't feel so fucked up...

"I think so." Nene couldn't escape the feeling that - whatever had happened to put her in this hospital bed - she didn't want to know what it was.

"Nene, I know you're a little groggy." Gah, what an understatement! "But I know that Priss Asagiri left a young boy in your care that night. He's missing."

"Sho's missing?" Nene was confused. Why did thinking about Sho give her such fear?

Daley was getting nowhere, and he knew it. Nene was still too out of it to

give him anything remotely useful. He checked his watch. Thirty seconds to go. Daley

still had one last card to play.

"Nene, I have one more question."

"Yes?"

"The boy, Sho, when you were with him, did he complain of a severe headache?"

Nene froze at the question...

("Sho, what's wrong?!" He was on his knees, hands clasping his head and a

scream like tormented demons ripping his throat. Then the furniture began to move, and

the invisible force slammed her and beat her and...)

"Sho..."

"Detective," Nurse Saito said after the door clicked open, "your five minutes are up."

"Nene, please." If nothing else, Daley had to know this.

"Yes, he did."

Twenty minutes later, Daley Wong stood outside amid the crowds of people outside the nondescript exterior of Cristobal Memorial wishing that he hadn't given up smoking. He could really use a cigarette. Turning left, Daley began the walk back to his car. He had a connection, but for the life of him it didn't make sense. Gran Hooper had mentioned Sho having a severe headache on showing him the demolished room in the orphanage. Now Nene Romanova confirmed that Sho had suffered a headache in her apartment shortly before the ADPolice had found the wreckage and the wounded officer.

Just as with the orphanage, Sho was nowhere to be found.

I know the pieces fit, Daley thought as he climbed into the patrolcar and keyed the engine. I just don't know how they fit. The damage done in both Nene's apartment and at the orphanage were on par with a Boomer rampage. Sho couldn't be a Boomer, though.

There was only one possibility that kept coming to mind. Sho had to be a mutant. It was the only explanation that made any kind of sense. Too bad he'd never be able to sell that to Leon, or the chief for that matter. Daley had to find Sho. He was the link. But where the hell would he look?

Sho could't remember the last time he had been so frightened, not to mention cold, hungry, and miserable to boot. He had no idea what had drawn him to this particular place, but he sorely wished to leave it.

Sho looked up at the mound of rubble he saw so often in his dreams, the pile of concrete and steel reinforcements that once made up the tenement he and his mother had once called home. But that was a long time ago, in another life. Before GENOM had destroyed his home, before they had killed his mother, before the orphanage. Before the headaches he couldn't control...

He looked away from the sight. GENOM had cleared away a good deal of the rubble, but enormous piles of what had once been people's homes still remained. For the first time, Sho wished he could control what happened when his head hurt. Oh, how he would make those bastards pay for what they had done.

But, above that, was the fact that this time someone was hurt by his powers, maybe even dead. Miss Nene had been Priss's friend, and she had been so nice to him. Even more than guilt was the fear. Fear that he might lose control again. What was happening to him?!

"AAAHH!"

"GET BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE BRAT!"

Sho hid behind a pile of refuse as the sounds of running footsteps drew closer. Beneath the strobe lights that dotted the construction site, he spied a girl maybe a few years older than him running from a uniformed security guard. Her dress might have been pastel pink once, the stains all over it ruining the color. Blueish-black hair trailed behind her, which the larger man grabbed and used to yank her to the ground.

"LET ME GO!"
"I'll teach you to mess around with our equipment, you..."

"HEY!" Sho didn't stop to consider what he was doing, even when they stared at him in open-mouthed amazement. "LET HER GO!"

"You this kid's friend?" the guard asked roughly.

"Let her go! Now!"

"You gotta be kiddin'!" The man howled. "Now get lost before I..."

Sho acted on an instinct he never knew he had. The maelstrom of hatred and

fear and guilt that had raged silently within the boy's body suddenly roared to the

forefront to wash everything he saw in a red tide.

"rrrrrRRRRAAAAAGGGHHHHH!!!"

"Hey, what the hell?!"

Celvice couldn't believe what she was seeing. The boy trembled with fury, his small body shaking from the intensity of it. But his eyes... they had gone solid white!

"Wha... URGH!"

The boy thrust out his hands, and Celvice felt something pass over her head like a cannonball. The pained grunt of the guard drew her gaze backward, where she saw the man fly back like a limp doll. He landed in a boneless heap several meters away, clearly not inclined to get back up any time soon.

She looked over to the boy, whose eyes had stopped glowing. He collapsed soon after.

"Oh, my..." She crawled over to the unconscious boy, her curiosity overriding her fear for the moment. Despite the circumstances, he had just saved her. The boy stank, she noted once she got close, and looked as if he hadn't eaten in days.

Who was he, and how did he do... whatever it was he had done to that guard? Celvice lifted him from the filthy pavement and half-dragged him away. She owed him one. As for what he had done, well, he could explain that when he woke up. He was obviously exhausted.